Working as a police officer in Mexico-Chapter 688 - 396: "Madman Tyrant"!

Border Line No. 91!

At this moment, the atmosphere was so tense and stifling that even the crows couldn't stand it and stayed quietly on the trees, not daring to make any noise.

The main forces that Texas could mobilize for border operations included the 36th Infantry Division and six Civilian Corps, although they were far inferior to the U.S. Military's government troops.

But if they were taken to Africa...

They would still be a force to reckon with!

This 36th Division had even captured German Marshal Rundstedt in Austria.

Of course, that's all old war history now.

But now their combat power should not be underestimated, even though they are militia, their weapons, equipment, and training duration are nearly on par with the Regular Army.

Now more than a thousand men from both sides were facing each other.

"Get back! You American bastard, don't you believe I can stab you!" Lieutenant Felik, holding a bayoneted rifle, shouted at the tall American soldier in front of him.

He was trembling all over.

Not out of fear, but out of excitement!

As Casare's brother, he had been very brave recently, subverting the 12th Infantry Regiment, leading the charge into Tamaulipas State, and rushing to the border line upon orders to confront the U.S. Military.

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Tell my brother, I'm not a coward!

The American soldier opposite him, with a slightly youthful face and at least 10 centimeters shorter than the Mexican, looked on with disdain, pointed at his own chest and cursed loudly, "Little drug trafficker, stab here, I'll let you stab!"

Hearing this name-calling, Felik's eyes turned red!

Little drug trafficker!

Amidst the other side's mocking and teasing, Felik roared and stabbed forward with the bayonet!

He went right through the other man!

The American soldier's eyes bulged, disbelieving...

He collapsed to the ground without even the time to regret, just coughing up blood and convulsing a few times before it was over. Dead.

Indeed...

So vulnerable, still pretending to be something.

"Murder! The Mexicans have done it!! Kill them!!" The Yanks beside witnessed this scene, their pupils shrank, and they picked up their weapons to join the fray.

"Gun them down, open fire!"

Whoever shouted that, it was not clear.

Machine guns on armored vehicles positioned at the border line began exchanging fire.

Some soldiers from both sides, completely unprepared, fell into pools of blood.

This sudden gunfire startled Rommel, who was 600 meters behind the border line.

"Division commander, division commander, they've started fighting again, the front line has engaged." A staff member ran in shouting at the door.

The word 'again' was well placed.

"Fire, order the 337th Regiment to press forward and take control here!" Rommel decisively pointed at a spot on the map; the staff looked and widened his eyes.

"Division commander, that's American territory."

"What American territory, it has always been our land, before we did not have the caliber to argue, now that they want to mess with us, we'll hit them first, pass on my command!"

"Yes!"

...

"Turn the artillery, target 300 meters behind the American camp, prepare!"

"Fire!"

The artillery from the 336th, 337th, and the Guard Battalion blasted towards the Yanks, a typical infantry regiment included 21 D-30 howitzers + 6 ZUS23-4 "Shileika" self-propelled anti-aircraft guns, 12 M-99 76 mm mountain guns.

That firepower...

Blasted holes and craters everywhere.

"Charge! Charge!!"

More than 3000 soldiers from the 337th Regiment roared as they crossed the border line.

Many Americans ran for their lives!

Even dropping their weapons.

The National Guard is a military force, but many in it have other full-time jobs, how could they be expected to fight to the death?

A barrage of artillery made them run faster than rabbits.

A Mexican M1A1 main battle tank pushed over the cars blocking the border line, crushing debris under its tracks, while the machine-gunner on top sprayed at the fleeing National Guard.

Tat tat tat tat tat tat...

Sparks flew from the heavy machine gun, with empty shells falling from the side, clanging on the tank before rolling off and being crushed under the tracks.

"The fight has started, the fight has started!!"

And not far from both American and Mexican sides were onlookers, with binoculars getting a clear view.

"OMG!" A fat guy in a KFC uniform stood on the roof with binoculars, watching the soldiers swarm over the hillside, getting goosebumps all over.

Seeing the charging people firsthand, one could feel the shock!

Meanwhile, the KFC restaurant below was ironically playing the "Panzerlied," an anthem from WWII.

"Hurry, Everton! Get our flag out and put it up," the fat guy yelled to his colleague, who replied and then planted a two-meter-tall Mexican flag.

Hmm...

This is called versatility!

"There are Mexican soldiers coming in." His colleague Everton pointed in the distance.

The fat guy adjusted his binoculars and indeed saw two Mexican M1A1 main battle tanks entering the town, followed by dozens of soldiers.

They were controlling the streets.

An elderly woman with white hair came out with a double-barreled shotgun, shouting loudly, "Get out, you bandits! Get out of the United States!"

It was a CZ Company's American Quail (Bobwhite) G2 double-barrel shotgun, decent firepower to kill someone, but the old lady's eyesight wasn't good.

Bang!

She shot at the tank, without even denting the armor.

What a spot to choose for shooting.

"Drop the gun!!" A Sergeant shouted, but… in Mexican Spanish.

Most Mexicans cannot speak English. Although English is the first foreign language in Mexico, the proportion of the population who speaks it is low, and many never leave their small piece of land until they die.

Some people only speak it when their job requires it, like smuggling drug traffickers.